“Really, Leia dear, you’d look so much nicer if you’d let Sirilla do something with your hair. And your clothes, darling, you know gray has never been your color. Why not wear something bright today for a change? Red, or perhaps a lovely shade of orange.”

Leia gritted her teeth. It had become a ritual every morning since she returned from the Temple two years before: visit mother, have her looks criticized, and resist the efforts to paint and dress her up like a doll. Still, it was only for an hour a day, and it pleased father. Leia adored her father and generally did anything he asked, even if it meant taking time out of her already too-busy day to sit with the damaged, troubled woman who had given birth to herself and her brother 18 years ago.

The Empress sat in state, surrounded by the pack of wizened attendants she called her “handmaidens” and several bodyguards, some of whom Leia suspected were also warders. The thin, tiny, nervous woman in the chair seemed far too fragile to hold up the weight of the elaborate clothing and coiffure she donned daily, and indeed, Leia couldn’t remember the last time she had seen her mother so much as stand up. Certainly she had not seen the face under the thick layer of makeup in years. Perhaps her father had. He still paid courteous daily visits to her mother’s apartments whenever he was in residence.

“Thank you mother, I prefer my own clothes. And there really isn’t time for me to have my hair done. You know Father expects me shortly.”

“Oh, but dear, you can’t attend to public business looking like that. You look like a peasant. How is anyone to know you are a princess if you won’t dress like one? Your father should never have sent you away to the Temple. What an appalling simplicity they’ve instilled in you.” The Empress plucked nervously at her dress, turning fretful. Leia knew her duty, and Father would be disappointed if he heard her mother was unhappy after her visit. As of course he would. Very little escaped his notice. Leia sighed inwardly but smiled outwardly.

“You’re right, of course, mother. Sirilla, can you just do a simple style? A quick braid, perhaps.” Leia was rewarded with one of her mother’s rare smiles as the hairdresser began to sculpt whatever style she thought appropriate to Leia’s station. Oh well, she could always brush it out on her way to Father’s study.

“You know, I used to do a lovely thing with my hair when I was your age. Parted in the middle and wrapped in coils on either side. I think that would suit you admirably”.

Leia kept her opinion private, silently vowing to never be caught dead with a hairstyle like that.

Having won this small battle, the Empress was happy again. Leia knew what came next – a long, rambling monologue about her youth as a Queen and a Senator, before her marriage, when she was permitted to exercise power in her own right rather than simply being an appendage to her husband. Leia knew these stories by heart, and could safely tune her out while still making the appropriate noises at the appropriate time.

She could remember her mother before the breakdown, but they were the odd, scrambled memories of a young child. It seemed that mother and Father had been at odds as long as she could remember. Father was under a lot of stress then, of course, due to his relationship with the Palpatine, the old emperor. Everyone knew Father was the emperor’s chosen successor, but Father was struggling against him in an attempt to bring his own philosophy of the perfect balance of Light and Dark paths to fruition. Leia herself had only seen Palpatine once, when Father was forced to bring his 5-year old twins to the Imperial presence. She still shuddered to recall the ruined old man with the avid, hungry eyes who put his hand on her head and pronounced her a strong, bright child. But most of his attention was on her brother Luke. She remembered sensing her father’s tension and anger as the Emperor petted the frightened boy and suggested he might make an excellent apprentice. Leia didn’t know what “apprentice” meant and thought it sounded like something you ate. She had nightmares for a week after that visit.

The next events were confused in her mind. Father’s cold fury, mother’s tears and recriminations, Luke sent suddenly to the Jedi Temple to begin his training, and Leia’s abrupt, silent removal to her grandmother Shmi’s house. Looking back, with knowledge of the larger events happening at that time, Leia could place her family’s upheaval in the context of her Father’s rise against the Palpatine, his own installment as Emperor, and the series of civil wars fought as he consolidated his power. At the time, however, she only knew the fear of a displaced child, followed by a year of peace with her grandmother. The only year of peace her life had yet seen.

Leia looked in the mirror and sighed. “I said a simple style, Sirilla. You won’t have time to finish this … creation before I have to leave.” Sirilla frowned, but brushed out the beginnings of her sculpture roughly, and began to twist the long brown hair into tight, complex braid. Just 15 more minutes, Leia told herself, then mother-sitting duty was done for the day.

Shmi had been just what she needed then. A smiling, kindly woman with wrinkled brown skin, bright knowing eyes, a calm, solid presence, and a vast fund of amusing stories, most about Leia’s Father as a precocious child, some about exciting people she had known. She had limitless patience with Leia’s endless questions, answering most of them as she would answer an adult (just the right tone to take – Leia hated being treated like a child even then). Years later, Leia would find herself remembering something Shmi had said that had been cryptic to her child’s mind, but made sudden sense in light of adult experience. She recalled one now, and almost laughed out loud as she suddenly realized what her grandmother was talking about.

“Grandmother, were you sad when Father went to the Jedi Temple? Like mother is sad about Luke?” Leia asked, curled up in Shmi’s comfortable lap.

“Of course I was sad when he left, he was my little boy” Shmi answered. Leia giggled. She couldn’t imagine Father ever having been a little boy. “But he was much older than your brother and was already moving away from me, going places I could never go. So, maybe it was easier for me to let go than it is for your mother. Watto kept me very busy, too. That helped. And there were other consolations, eventually.”

Leia looked up at her grandmother’s face, seeing a slight distant smile. “What are conaslations?

“Con-sol-ations, child. They are things that make you feel a little better when you have lost something.”

“Oh. Like you make me feel better?”

Shmi laughed and hugged her. “Yes, like that”.

“Oh. What kind of” she concentrated hard for a moment “consolations did you have?”

Shmi laughed again, and kissed the top of her head. “Never you mind about that. They were big girl consolations. Now up, it’s time you were in bed.”

Leia smiled at herself in the mirror. That had been the sort of conversation discouraged by Father when her earthy grandmother came to live with them later. They had continued to have them anyway until Shmi died four years ago, but since Father had a stubborn blind spot when it came to the behavior of the female members of the family, she had never mentioned any of the more interesting stories Shmi told her in hints and innuendo.

“Yes, dear, that’s right. You look so much better. You are such a pretty girl when you smile. Now about your clothes…” The Empress was turning to an attendant, about to send her for a wardrobe selection. Leia stood up.

“I’m sorry mother, not today. I really have to go. There’s so much work to do.” Leia went to kiss the dry, painted cheek. “Maybe we can look at a couple things tomorrow.”

“Very well. But I do want you to wear something nice to the next Senate reception. That young Antilles boy, Bail’s son, such a nice young man, and he’s certainly interested in you…”

“Good morning, mother. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Leia was out in the corridor, doors closing behind her as her personal bodyguard dropped into step a few paces back, before mother could get too any farther in to the subject of finding a nice man for her. If it was one thing Leia was absolutely sure of, it was that she would never end up stuck with a “nice” man, which in her mother’s lexicon meant “someone weak, amenable, and nothing like your father”.

Leia worried constantly that her mother might start to cling to her again, as she had when Leia had finally been brought back to her parents. Whatever had happened in that year, it had broken mother. She had taken to dressing as she had in her youth, and kept her daughter constantly by her side, insisting that she dress in a similar fashion. Forced to sit for hours under the attentions of mother’s dressmakers and maids, the 6-year-old had finally rebelled by cutting off all her own hair and shredding the dozens of elegant miniature gowns in her closet. At that point, Father had stepped in and removed Leia from her mother’s care, placing her with a series of hand-picked teachers and bringing Shmi to the Imperial complex to help raise his daughter.

She stopped by her own rooms, changing rapidly into the simple black and white favored by her Father’s staff, throwing a gray robe over it all. The only decoration was her family device embroidered on each sleeve: a black sun intersecting a white sun, rays entwined, the symbol of the Balanced Path philosophy. Her two bodyguards fell in behind again her as she made her way rapidly to the working part of the Imperial complex anticipating a long, difficult, satisfying day of work at her Father’s side. She hated the presence of the bodyguards, but Father insisted, at least until she was sufficiently advanced in her studies to keep herself safe from the inevitable assassination attempts.

Three years at the Temple would have done it, but Father said that she was being taught too many old-style Jedi philosophies, and had brought her back early to continue her training himself two years before. She had been tremendously relieved at first to leave the Temple, where she had been subtly shunned and rejected. Too old to train, too spoiled to learn, royal dilettante, that had been the unvoiced but open opinion from day one. Master Kenobi had agreed to have her taught, out of friendship and respect for her Father, even knowing she was not to become a Jedi, but he clearly thought there was little point of starting at the age of 14. However, her Father had looked her in the eye and said, “I expect greatness from you. Do not disappoint me”. And so she had worked harder in the next two years than she ever had at anything else before. And she became good. Very good, at least in her own opinion, and even some of the master had to admit she was certainly her Father’s daughter in potential. But she was still not nearly good enough when he sent for her to return home.

Unfortunately, the Emperor had little time to formally work with her on her Force studies, although she had certainly absorbed a tremendous amount of politics, history, diplomacy, and ruthlessness working as his closest aide. There was no doubt in her mind that when the time came, she would be his chosen heir. After two years at his side, her political mind was razor sharp, but there was more to being an Emperor these days than just being good at the job of ruling. Leia thought she would wait for a time when work could be set aside for a bit and then approach Father about letting her go back to the Temple for another year, or perhaps convincing Master Kenobi to come and train her here.

Leia slowed as she reached the interior chambers of her Father’s offices. Impassive red-robed Imperial guards passed her through with scarcely a look. She knew they mostly there for show, not any serious defense. She would pity the assassin who got through to her Father’s private rooms. Her bodyguards left her at this point. If there was a safe place in the galaxy, it was surely here. Entering the enormous antechamber of his private study, she was intercepted by one of his several aides, dressed in black and white livery similar to her own.

“Good morning, highness. The Emperor wishes you to attend him immediately upon your arrival. If you will go through, he is waiting.”

Leia was surprised. She usually worked four or five hours before she was called to his study. “Did he say whether I should bring anything with me?” She had several important matters on her desk; guild strikes, small insurrections and the like, and wanted to be prepared.

“Nothing, highness. His orders were simply to send you in.”

“All right, thank you.” Leia felt hopeful. Time alone with Father was a rare commodity, doled out in moments rather than hours, and she sensed it would have something to do with her future training. She took a deep breath and crossed the room to the study.

The door slid back silently at her approach, shutting immediately behind her. As she hoped, he was alone, standing, bent slightly over the opaque black desk, studying the information provided by a number of shifting readout screens, speaking quietly into a transcriber, giving orders, launching armies, resolving border disputes. Much of his real work was done here, but most of his time was taken up with personally handling Senators, guild representatives, trade and corporation officers, and other various and sundry worthies who could be soothed, cajoled, threatened, bribed, or intimidated by an audience with the Emperor. He completed the task at hand and straightened up to greet his daughter.

“Good morning, father.” Leia greeted him formally from just inside the doorway, inclining her head. This is what an Emperor looks like, she thought. Tall, handsome, broad-shouldered, golden hair and beard showing just a touch of silver, eyes that looked past your face and into your soul. He was dressed entirely in black today, as he had dressed entirely in white the day before. Either suited him equally well. There couldn’t be two such men in the galaxy. Just her luck she was related to him.

“Good morning Leia.” He looked at her hair and smiled slightly. “I see you visited your mother. How is she today?”

“Well enough when I left her.” Leia lost a little of her formality. “She wanted me to try on dresses, but I declined. I suppose I’ll let her force me into one or two tomorrow.”

“A kind thought, but you will not be seeing your mother tomorrow. Or for some time, I think.”

Leia’s heart leapt. She’d been right! He was sending her back to the Temple. Immediately she felt a pang of loss, missing her father already, but how much better it would be, how much more of a help she could be to him when she came back as something closer to an equal.

“I am to finish my training, then?” she asked, already certain of the answer.

“You are. I have settled on a suitable tutor for you. Your training will be here in the Complex where I can be certain of your safety, but your teacher will determine your schedule for the next half year.”

“It is not to be Master Kenobi, then?

“No, you have already spent too much time studying the old Jedi ways. If the Force is to be truly balanced within you, it will be necessary to counteract some of those teachings.”

The Emperor gestured at the wall behind him and a door Leia had never known was there slid open revealing a dark-robed figure. Before he even stepped into the room, she realized of whom her Father was speaking, who he had engaged as a teacher. Fear caught at her throat. Master Kenobi had told her enough tales of the Sith to make certain that she would know him anywhere.

“Darth Maul was one of my teachers, and he has long been a valued associate and advisor. There is no one more able to instruct you in the dark paths. Lord Maul, I give you my daughter. Complete her training as befits a future monarch.”

Objections rose to Leia’s lips, but she choked them back. In addition to being a dutiful daughter, she was also a subject of the Emperor and as bound by his orders as any other citizen of the Empire. She shot him a look of mute appeal anyway, hoping he might allow her to speak with him in private before forcing this on her.

Maul put back his hood and stared at her in a cool, appraising way. Leia felt pinned by those eyes and a mind that casually stripped away her practiced concealments and read what was underneath. When he finally spoke, his voice was distant and emotionless.

“Perhaps her highness is displeased with your choice of tutor. I have no interest in attempting to train an unwilling pupil.”

Leia tore her eyes away from his and looked at her father. His implacable blue eyes stared back.

“I think perhaps you mistake her. She has desired to complete her training for some time now, and will prove an excellent student. I am certain she will be guided by my judgment in this matter. Is this not so, Leia?”

Leia swallowed the lump in her throat. After all, Master Kenobi only met Darth Maul once, whereas her father had been taught by him, and apparently had maintained a relationship for years. And she did trust her father, didn’t she? She decided.

“My wishes are the same as yours, sir” Not precisely gracious or enthusiastic, but the best she could manage under the circumstances.

The Emperor turned away. “Then I will see you again in six months, or possibly sooner, if Lord Maul deems it advisable.”

“I’m to go right now? But my work…”

“Has already been assigned elsewhere. I anticipated your desire to leave with a minimum of fuss. I am certain you would not wish your mother to be unnecessarily troubled.” He looked back at her for a moment. “Be diligent and obedient. I shall expect to see an empress when next we meet.” He turned away again, and went back to his work, dismissing her.

Maul moved toward the doorway from which he had emerged and walked through, not looking to see if she was following. After a moment of agonized indecision, Leia reluctantly followed him. The door slid shut behind her.

Leia followed in silence for several minutes down a maze of half-lit corridors, wondering whether she should speak or not, and if so, what tone to adopt. She had always been casually respectful to Master Kenobi, but his status as her godfather and avuncular manner toward her meant there was far more familiarity in that relationship then there would ever be in this one. Probably best to assume an attitude similar to the one she had observed in her brother toward his teachers. Six months wasn’t that long to keep up a front, and she was feeling highly motivated to lessen that time period. Besides, with her father’s protection still over her, Maul certainly would not dare to take matters too far. Best to get an idea of what she could expect right away.

She cleared her throat slightly, and speaking in the practiced, formal voice she used with her father in public said, “Master, may I be permitted to ask questions?”

Maul turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder, “How else should an apprentice learn if questions are not asked?”

“My training, is it to be…” Leia hesitated as Maul stopped abruptly and turned to face her, eyes burning in the half-light.

“I gave you no permission to ask questions.”

“But I thought…”

“You did not think. You assumed I spoke rhetorically. My questions will always require answers.” Chagrined, Leia flushed under his contempt, feeling suddenly 10 years old. She thought back quickly, trying to remember exactly what he had asked.

“An apprentice also can learn by observing, listening to, and emulating the master,” she said slowly and precisely.

Maul smiled faintly. “Good. Now you may ask your questions.” He turned and started away again. Leia followed, staying a few paces behind while she thought of how to frame the questions she was now obliged to ask. She was granted a few moments reprieve when the corridor came to an abrupt end. Maul made a slight impatient gesture and a turbolift door opened. Leia noted that there were no controls to be seen, no call buttons. Clearly the lift was designed to be used only by those who did not require them.

Following him onto the lift, she had a sudden thought as the door closed silently behind her. That’s my life today – nothing but doors closing behind me. She shivered slightly and stood as far away from Maul as the small lift allowed, back pressed to the door. He studied her impassively.

“I take from your silence that you have achieved enlightenment on your own and all of your questions are now answered,” he said in a dry, sardonic tone.

Leia gathered her courage. “I was wondering about my course of training, whether it will be primarily mental or philosophical. I know my greatest weaknesses are…”

Maul cut her off sharply. “I will determine your weaknesses, not you. You may assume that everything I do or say is a test, and how you perform on those tests will determine the course of your training. I only assure you that it will be extremely practical.” His eyes narrowed. “So far, I am unimpressed. I wonder if your father’s fondness has blinded him to your numerous flaws.”

Leia’s quick temper flared up again. “If I’m so flawed, why don’t you take me back to him and explain why you feel incapable of the task he set you.”

The lift doors slid open again behind her. Maul advanced rapidly on her, forcing her to take several quick steps backwards before she caught her foot on an uneven bit of floor and stumbled. Maul paused next to her. “Lessons on respect for one’s master and the appropriate uses of anger will most certainly be in order. I may need to revise my original estimate on the amount of time required to school you fully.” He continued past her.

She stood and hurried after her him, angry and embarrassed at being so easily intimidated, but determined to not be found wanting in promptness at least, rounded a bend in the corridor and just stopped herself before running into his motionless back. She watched as three heavy doors slid back, one after the other, opening into a darkened room. Maul stepped to one side in a mock-courteous gesture.

“Home, your highness, for the next six months. Or longer.”

The lights came up as she stepped hesitantly into the room. She immediately recognized the similarity to the large training rooms at the Jedi Temple – much of the same equipment and sensors was in evidence. There were four smaller open doorways that would probably lead to personal rooms and offices. She was briefly cheered by the familiarity, a feeling that left her immediately as she felt the three doors shut behind her. Maul moved into the room, dropping his cloak over a small bench. Leia automatically started to remove her own outer robe, casting a look back to the door. As she feared, it now appeared to be a blank wall, no controls, not even an old-fashioned handle.

“You will not leave until you can open the doors. And you will not be able to open the doors until I am sufficiently satisfied with your training to teach you how they work.” Maul stood in the center of the room. “Come here.”

Leaving her gray robe on a hook, Leia crossed to the center of the room, facing him nervously.

“Kneel.”

She hesitated a second too long. A heavy hand on her shoulder and a boot hooked behind one knee brought her to the floor with bone-jarring force. Maul knelt in front of her, studying her face in bored disinterest as she struggled to keep her frayed temper. After a moment he spoke again.

“You are excessively slow to follow orders. Why should that be?”

Leia clasped her hands hard in her lap, knuckles white. “I am sorry, master. I will try to be quicker in the future” she said tightly, eyes lowered less in respect than in an effort not to strike out at that faint, mocking smile.

Maul slapped her sharply with a casual backhand. “Did you not understand when I told you that I expected all of my questions to be answered? Are you also slow of mind?

Leia’s hand flew to her reddened cheek in shocked anger. She had never, ever been struck before. Rage made her incautious and she dropped any pretense of respect and humility. “Yes, I understood. No, I am not slow of mind, and if I am slow following orders it is for the obvious reason that I am far more used to giving than taking them. I’m a princess, damn you, and heir to this empire. My father will not sit still for this. When he hears how you have treated me….” She broke off at the sound of his low, amused laughter.

“What a temper the little princess has, like a child deprived of a favorite toy.” Abruptly, the laughter stopped as he leaned forward and caught her chin in one hand and pulling her toward him with fearful suddenness. “Did you understand what your father said to you? Not about diligence and obedience, I’m already certain you know nothing of those. But do you remember the rest?”

“He, he said he expected to see an empress.” Leia swallowed hard.

“An empress, yes. Not a princess. He has no use for princesses. He will not wish to see one. Your path is decided, and you will leave these rooms ready to be an empress, or you will not leave at all. There are no other choices.” He released her, and she recoiled, aghast.

“You wouldn’t dare! He would kill you if you harmed me! My father loves me!”

“You are a fool indeed if you believe any of those three things. I will not only dare kill you, I will consider it a requirement should the need arise. As for your father, he would be irritated at the loss of a potentially valuable tool, but would simply bring your brother in to take your place. He might perhaps spare a moment to grieve in his own fashion, but he is, above all else, a practical man, and mindful of your potential for failure. I would not have agreed to take you as a student if this were not the case.”

Leia was cold inside. It sounded horribly plausible. She had witnessed enough of her father’s ruthlessness to know that he would never risk settling his empire on an unworthy successor, and history was very plain about the consequences of leaving rejected heirs alive to become the center of plots and rebellions. She had always assumed he loved her, even though she had seen little of him until the last two years. Of course he had never said so, not in so many words, but surely…

“Poor little Leia. Nothing hurts as much as the truth, as you will have ample opportunity to discover over the next several months. You can no more become an empress while you are still a princess than you can become an adult without losing the innocence of childhood. Our mutual task is to destroy the princess so we may create the empress, to uproot the innocent beliefs of your childhood to make way for the hard realities of your adult life. Losing the illusion that you are loved is the first step on the path of your new life.”

Leia’s mind went to her mother briefly. No, mother may have loved her once, years ago, but it was long since that fretful, wandering mind had been able to love anyone, including herself. Luke had seemed distantly fond of her, the few times she had encountered him in the Temple, but they were strangers, and their positions meant there would always be a wall of formality between them. Her grandmother…

“Yes, your grandmother, simple woman, probably loved Leia-the-child, but would never have understood Leia-the-adult, and where there is no understanding, there can hardly be love in any meaningful sense.” Maul’s cool, pitying voice broke into her thoughts. She started, realizing how open and obvious her thoughts had been. She had thought herself more skilled than that. It must be that she was even more upset than she had realized. Anger at being so easily read, as well as being the object of pity, even mock pity, cleared her mind.

Feeling a little more in control, she raised her head and looked Maul full in the face. “If the price of power is the rejection of love, I am fully prepared to pay it.”

“Rejection? It is not rejection of which I speak, it is absence, a very different thing altogether. When you ascend, you will be no more capable of giving or receiving love than is your father. Rather, you will understand that what your child’s mind now thinks of as love cannot exist for you. There will only be practicality. Like your father, you may be worshiped, feared, or respected, but never loved, and never wholly trusted.”

Leia wanted to object, wanted to say that she loved her father, but the words stuck in her throat. Did she love him? Certainly she adored him, but always from a distance, knowing no more of him than did any of his other aides, and perhaps even less than many of them. Her memories of him prior to the past two years were indistinct, drawn more from stories and history than personal experience. Of course she had always understood that his position required a distance from even his own family, but a treacherous thought crept into her unwilling mind that perhaps he was cold and distant by nature, not circumstance. Or maybe it was her own fault, maybe she had stayed too distant. With Luke gone and her mother so erratic, who was there but Leia to comfort and love him? Was his coldness her doing?

She spoke slowly and carefully. “I accept that the emperor cannot afford to love, but I know that my father can. There has been very little opportunity for me to spend time with him, but when my training here is complete, I will be of more use to him, able to take some of the burden of his duties on myself, and he can sometimes be only Anakin Skywalker.”

“Time for him to play happy families, to be the doting father, the loving husband.” The open contempt in Maul’s voice lashed at Leia, and she felt her cheeks burn again. “And where is this happy family Anakin will spend his free evenings with? His son at the Temple, his wife locked away, only his all-too loving daughter at his feet, waiting in vain for a smile, a kind word, a caress, a…what? What precisely is it you want from him?” Maul stared at her intently, a slow, knowing, horrible smile crossing the tattooed face.

Leia froze. “I don’t know what you mean. I only want what any daughter wants from her father. I, I want his respect and affection…”

“Lies. You lie to yourself and you lie to me. You know your true feelings, whether or not you choose to acknowledge them. Your affection for your father is far more, shall we be polite and say basic, than that of other young women for their sires. Perhaps his knowledge of the nature of your feelings for him is one of the reasons your father maintains his distance.”

Speechless with shock, Leia almost started to rise, but had enough sense of self-preservation to stop herself, turning her head away and clenching her fists in her lap instead. She felt sickened with guilt and embarrassment, not because she believed the accusation, but because she suddenly wondered if this was how everyone interpreted her attention to her father. Is that how it looked to other people when she spent as much time as allowed close by his side, when she practically ran to his offices every day, when she openly sought his attention and approval? How did other girls act toward their fathers? She had never had opportunity to observe. Did her father think she harbored unnatural feelings for him? Is that why he kept her at arms length? How could she ever look him in the face again?

“Do not take too much blame on yourself. His position has required him to keep apart from his family. You have never had the opportunity to know him as your father, only as your emperor. It is not surprising that your feelings for him should be confused. Consider that his lot will be yours someday. Such power isolates one from friends, lovers, family, for they must always be subjects, never equals. You must always be prepared to sacrifice not only your feelings for others, but theirs for you.”

For the first time, Leia considered herself in her father’s position. As long as she could remember, she had wanted to be like him, to be strong, without any apparent fear or uncertainty, to effortlessly command and inspire worship (fear?) in others. She had never considered before what drastic changes in herself would be required in order to become that person, assuming without thinking that it would just happen some day when she was older, if she watched and imitated him long enough. But how badly did she really want to become that person, and did her wants and wishes matter anymore? Despair started to engulf her, a sudden feeling that she had been dropped into the middle of an ocean without knowing how to swim.

She started when Maul leaned toward her, steeling herself not to flinch under a blow, but he merely took her clenched fists and turned them over, palms up. The realization of unexpected pain made her look down and open her hands. She was horrified to see blood seeping from several small crescent-shape cuts where her fingernails had gouged her own flesh. Without thinking, she began to pull them back, but stopped when his hands tightened slightly and let them lay where they were, looking like small wounded animals against the black gloves.

Leia stared at her hands. An image from her childhood, long ago forgotten or suppressed rose up in her mind, momentarily blotting out any the anxieties of the present. Her mother, screaming, bleeding from slashes on her hands and arms, leaving gory handprints on her father’s bare, terribly scarred chest as she beat at him, calling him a murderer, saying he had killed her husband and stolen her children. The stained knife on the floor, where her father had tossed it after pulling it from her hands, as he tried to restrain and soothe her, his voice calm and loving but his eyes hard and cold when they fell on his 5-year-old daughter, standing wide-eyed in the doorway. Then her nurse sweeping her away, and her mother gone forever, replaced by the fragile madwoman she did not see until a year later.

Still staring at her hands, bleeding from self-inflicted wounds, a wave of panic hit her, and she tried to stand up, trying frantically to pull her hands away, thinking of nothing now but the need to escape, escape her own mind, escape the burning eyes, escape the remorseless voice with it’s terrible promise of truth, escape her own life-long overwhelming fear of what she might become. Maul pressed her palms together, holding them for another moment, then released her. She fell back, thrown off-balance slightly, but caught herself and stood uncertainly, then headed for one of the open doorways seeking some kind of refuge, even an imaginary one.

“No, there is no escape for you that way.” Maul was suddenly in front of her, blocking the doorway. She tried to move around him, but am arm shot out, blocking the exit. She backed away, then ran blindly toward a second door. He was there before her. “What is it you are running from? What is it that is too terrible to bear?” He took her by the shoulders, fingers bruising her flesh, pushed her backwards to the center of the room, and forced her back to her knees. She stared up at him with a hunted look, brought sharply back to the present by an awareness of the danger in which her irrational behavior had placed her.

“Please don’t hurt me” Leia whispered suddenly, and then put her hand to her mouth too late to stop the words.

“Physical pain can be a valuable tool, used properly. In the correct circumstances, to mortify the flesh is to purify the spirit. It can teach you to focus your mind, by forcing you to ignore your body. In time, I will see that you learn a great deal about physical pain, both when to administer it, and when to seek it.” Maul knelt in front of her again. “But those matters are not for today. It will be some time before you can benefit from such lessons, as you must first learn to differentiate between pain as punishment and pain as teacher.”

He paused, waiting, eyes fixed on her, unblinking, slightly narrowed. Leia almost panicked again, remembering belatedly that he had asked questions a moment before.

“I-I was upset. I remembered something from a long time ago. I didn’t want to think about it.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, ashamed to confess out loud what had been abundantly clear from her actions. “It frightened me”.

“More than I do, obviously.”

“No. Yes. I don’t know. In a different way.”

“Tell me of this frightening memory.”

Leia opened her mouth, but nothing came out for a moment. “I cannot.”

Mauls voice was quiet and deadly. “You mean you will not. You must learn to speak more precisely”.

Leia sensed a change in his stillness, which had shifted from calm and relaxed to dangerously poised, prepared for sudden movement. It was somehow more terrifying than if he had actually moved. She fought for breath, and her words came out a half-plea, half-sob. “I can’t. If I say it out loud, it will…” she broke off, unable to continue.

“It will become real?” Maul finished for her.

Leia nodded soundlessly.

“This memory, this beast from your mind that squats in the middle of this room, it reduces you to a weeping child, it causes you to place yourself in very mortal danger, yet you foolishly think it is not already real. You can destroy this thing. Speak of it out loud and you will eliminate its power. If you cannot, it will most assuredly kill you.”

Leia closed her eyes, seeing the image rise up again. “My mother…”she started but got no further. She clasped her hands in her lap tightly, feeling the cuts begin to bleed again. After a moment of silence, Maul spoke again.

“Yes, your mother. Poor, bitter, weak-minded Padme. If your father’s greatest error was choosing to marry at all, then his second greatest was surely his choice of mate. A pretty, high-strung, over-bred girl who had always been protected from herself and the consequences of her own actions, surrounded by bodyguards, shielded by Anakin, letting others die in her place, never needing to develop any true strength of mind. How could that fragile, untested psyche survive the first real blow it received when there was no one to absorb the shock?”

“It couldn’t…it didn’t. She tried, she had a knife and she tried….she hurt herself, cut her arms and her hands. And my father, he…” Leia stopped again. Her father. What had he tried to do? Stop her, of course, but why did she scream at him, say he had murdered himself? Leia shook her head in an attempt to clear it.

“And here you are, your father’s daughter, surely, as everyone says, but your mother’s daughter also. Another pretty child, always protected, shielded by your father, by bodyguards, by Jedi, by your privileged position. What strength of mind do you think you have that she did not? How can you imagine you will escape what she did not?”

“I am not my mother!” Leia half-screamed. “I’m nothing like her – I won’t be! She turned away from everything, my father, me – she wanted to die rather than face…” Face what? “She could have ruled with him, but she wouldn’t. I can, I will! I’m stronger than she ever was, I am my father’s daughter, only his. I have his strength, I only lack his training. I reject her, and I reject her weakness, and I reject her madness!” She subsided, breathing rapidly, staring wildly at Maul, who looked back at her with considerable amusement.

“Listening to you now, one might suppose you had already traveled her path. It would be ironic indeed if your fear of madness drove you mad.” He looked at her intently for a moment, then shook his head. “This was a mistake. There is nothing here for me to work with. I think it will be best, highness, if we return you to your father. I will recommend that you be removed from the line of succession and kept isolated, like your mother.” He stood abruptly, taking her hands and pulling her to her feet.

Leia tried to resist, pulling back in attempt to stay in the center of the room. “What? No, you can’t do this. I have to learn, I have to be trained. I can’t go back like this, a failure, useless, worse than useless, a burden! If I have to go back I’ll…” she bit her tongue, willing the words back.

“You’ll what? Go mad? Attempt to kill yourself?” Maul took her by the upper arms and pulled her toward him, his face inches from hers.

“No! I’ll, I’ll leave, I’ll run away somewhere, I’ll beg my father to send me back to the Jedi Temple…” she stopped as he shook her roughly.

“He will never allow you to go back there. He will never allow you to leave. You know he will not. I was your last hope. Now you will stay locked away in a splendid cage to live out your life like your mother, protected, coddled, useless, imprisoned.” Leia turned her face away, willing herself not to listen, but his mouth was next to her ear and she could not avoid the words. “Perhaps your father will let you live with her so you can keep each other company. You can dress each other up in your pretty gowns, paint each other’s pretty faces, spin each other pretty fantasies about how you were once powerful and respected…”

“Stop it!” she screamed “I will kill myself, I’ll kill her, then myself rather than end up like that!” She drew in a ragged, sobbing breath and stopped, suddenly clutching at his chest. “Please, don’t send me back, keep me here, I can learn, I want to learn. I’d rather die trying. Please.” The last words were a whisper, barely audible. She bowed her head, hands twisted in his tunic.

He knelt again, pulling her down with him, holding her close. When he spoke, his voice was calm and soothing. “There is so much fear in you, Leia, and all of the wrong things. You fear madness, but I see what is in your mind and I tell you that madness is not your fate. You have strength enough to endure what is before you, you know this. Cast that fear away from you now and have done with it.”

Leia, eyes shut, had a sudden feeling of vertigo, as if she teetered at the edge of a cliff, feeling the void reach up to pull her into the chasm. She held more tightly to Maul, and felt a part of herself fall away, now drifting, now gone forever. She gasped, first in relief at her escape, then in grief for whatever she had lost along with the fear. Tears welled up and spilled from the corners of her eyes.

Maul raised her head from his chest, bent his head over hers, and slowly, deliberately licked the tears from her left cheek. Tilting her head back, he covered her lips with his and thrust his tongue deeply into her mouth. She struggled for an instant, then settled back, accepting. After a moment he raised his head, staring into her eyes. She opened her eyes and stared back.

“Remember the taste of this, your last tears shed in grief. You will have other losses after this, but you will greet those losses joyfully, and you will thank me for them. In teaching you the dark path I will teach you to see only truth, to see only what exists. I will snuff out that insignificant light that you hold in front of your eyes, the light that blinds you to the realities of what lies in the shadows. I will tear away the veils of protection around your mind, and you will be denied the comforts of self-delusion, of hope, of madness. Only then can you understand what truly deserves your fear and no phantom in your mind can frighten you again. You will thank me for this gift, but you will also hate me for it, and this hate will make you strong, for in turning it outward, you will preserve yourself from the self-hate that would otherwise destroy you.”

He released her and put her away from him so that they knelt once again facing each other. He raised a hand and brushed the last tears off her right cheek with a gloved finger, and held his hand out, proffering the tears as a gift. Leia hesitated, then leaned slightly forward and licked the moisture away.

“Your own tears are bitter, but you will find that the tears of others can taste sweet indeed. When you can no longer shed your own, you will need others to provide them. But that is a lesson for another time, and I feel we have done enough for today.” He rose and retrieved his cloak from the bench. “Leia.” She looked up. “That door leads to your rooms”. He gestured toward one of the doorways “You will not enter any of the others until I tell you that you may. Go now. You will require rest before your next lesson.” He walked toward what had looked like a blank wall but turned out to be one of the hidden doors, and exited the practice room, door closing silently behind him.

Leia was more exhausted than she could ever remember feeling in her life. She stood shakily and crossed to the hook where she had hung her gray robe a lifetime ago. Her eyes blurred with tiredness as she stared at the device embroidered on the sleeve, and it seemed to her for a moment that the image shifted and the black sun eclipsed the white, but her eyes refocused and it returned to normal. She took down the robe, turned toward the doorway, and walked slowly away to try and rest.